


Who Thought To Mourn You But I?

by Hino



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, It has a sad boy, M/M, Major Spoilers, Set after the Akechi fight in Shido's Palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 17:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: Akechi Goro is dead.Akira Kurusu is heartbroken.The World is uncaring.-Inspired by Gin's fanart/A fix-it thing where someone *actually* mourns Akechi





	Who Thought To Mourn You But I?

**Author's Note:**

> Someone linked me this fanart, and I had to make something  
> https://twitter.com/ginsays/status/1042279672321462272?s=19

He left Shido’s palace weary and tired. All the Phantom Thieves felt that way, although Akira felt his reason was different.

Stepping out onto the street, they all raised their arms, stretching the cramps away. Fighting took its toll on the body, and the Metaverse somehow made that strain more intense than usual. Ryuji shot Akira a smile, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders and giving them a slight rub. “That help?”

“Yeah.” Akira flashed a smile, receiving a pat on the back from Ryuji as he drew away. Yusuke offered a comforting shoulder squeeze, an action mimicked by Ann as she passed him. “Should we meet tomorrow?”

Haru paused, placing a finger to her chin as she thought. “I’m afraid I have some business to attend to tomorrow night. I’m sorry.” She looked upset, as if her inability to participate was letting them all down.

Makoto waved her hand dismissively. “I have dinner plans with my sister anyway, so don’t worry about it.” There was a smile on her face, and it put Haru at ease. The mention of dinner plans made Yusuke perk up, and he slowly began to slide towards Makoto, fully intent on asking if he could third wheel on their dinner date. Futaba hid her smile behind her sleeve, while Ann and Ryuji openly laughed at Yusuke’s intentions.

Yusuke started to defend himself, but Akira didn’t stay to listen. He raised his hand in a halfhearted wave and began to walk home, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, gaze on the ground. The less people he made eye contact with, the better. After all, Shido had spies all over the place, and if any of them knew he was alive, their ability to get into the Palace was long gone. It seemed like nobody had noticed his departure anyway, which was what he wanted. If anyone stopped him to talk now, well, he didn’t want to think about it.

 

The subway ride home passed in a blur. Akira was on autopilot, gaze unfocused and thoughts jumbled. He almost missed his stop, only snapping back to reality long enough to scramble for the doors and scan his way into the underground. After that, he spaced out again, replaying that day again, going over everything in his head.

Akechi had been in Shido’s palace. He’d been angry and vengeful. He had a plan to take Shido down, and the problem lay deep within his heart. Akechi’s hate was more intense than Akira’s. A life of suffering compared to a year of probation. Knowing your father was rich and famous, and knowing he made your mother suffer. Knowing he only wanted you because you killed people.

In his heart, Akira didn’t blame Akechi. He wasn’t angry that Akechi had lied to them, or that he’d been hiding another Persona. Hell, it was almost funny. Robin Hood was the Persona which Akechi used to mask his true self; Loki.

 

He was halfway through his thoughts when he slammed into the Leblanc door, stumbling backwards in surprise. Was he home already? Inside, he could see Sojiro draped over the counter, laughing far harder than he should of. At least someone was having a good day.

Akira opened the door, letting the soothing atmosphere of the cafe wash over him as he pulled off his hood. It didn’t stop his train of thought completely, or cure the fatigue he was feeling, but it did make him feel slightly better. “Evening.”

Sojiro pulled himself off the counter, letting the last of his laughter fade away as he cleaned the spot where he’d just been laying a moment before. “Seems like you had a rough day.”

“Mm.” He didn’t answer properly, gaze unfocused again. Sojiro paused, good mood suddenly gone. He put down the rag he’d been using to clean and stepped around the counter, approaching Akira. Luckily the cafe was empty, so nobody had to witness the sudden compassion that had overcome him as he wrapped Akira tight in his arms. “What-”

“Shut up and accept this token of affection,” Sojiro grumbled, gently placing a hand on the back of Akira’s head and pushing the boy’s face into his shoulder. For a moment Akira tensed, before letting himself sink into Sojiro’s embrace, arms coming up to wrap around the older man.

 

They stayed that way for a while. Sojiro had long since grown uncomfortable, but he’d been around Akira long enough to know he hid his feelings from people. He was the type of person to wait until nobody was around before letting the truth show. It was only when Morgana, who had been stewing in his own thoughts, began to meow and thrash that Sojiro let him go. “Seems your cat isn’t too fond of hugs.”

Akira pushed his glasses up, rubbing at his eyes for a moment before putting them back. “Cats never are.” He put his hands back in his pockets, turning to look at Morgana who was scowling. “What? It’s the truth?”

Morgana pawed aggressively at Akira’s ear, giving him a warning. “How would you like it if someone squished the life out of you?!”

Sojiro sighed, only having heard some aggressive meowing. He set a hand on Akira’s head and ruffled his hair. “I don’t know what happened today,” he began, “but I’m having ramen tonight with Futaba. You’re welcome to come around, if you need to.” The hand moved from Akira’s head to his shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze before sliding off as Sojiro moved towards the door. “Remember to close up.”

 

“Yeah,” was all Akira could manage before the door swung shut, bringing with it a silence that was heavy and uncomfortable. The coffee brewer was still on, and Akira appreciated it. Sojiro had most likely left it on for him, sensing he could use a coffee.

Taking advantage of that, Akira put his bag down, letting Morgana climb out and take a seat on one of the barstools. From there he moved to making himself a coffee, letting his gaze filter across all the types of beans. When it came to the more expensive beans though he stopped, sharply turning his head back to the cheaper ones and grabbing a bag to brew.

The action didn’t go unnoticed. Morgana tilted his head, watching Akira pour his cup. “You don’t usually go for such cheap beans.”  
Akira tensed, but said nothing, putting a spoon of sugar in and a lump of cream. It made the flavour softer yet more intense, and he stirred it absently, thoughts wandering again. Morgana sighed. “There was nothing you could do.”

“I could have saved him,” Akira answered flatly, sipping his coffee.

Morgana didn’t try to answer him. There was no answer he could give that would mean anything. After all, they really could have saved him. Surely their personas could have torn a hole in the partition, or they could have pulled Akechi over to their side while the cognition was busy. Maybe they could have even launched a sneak attack on the cognition, letting Akechi sneak away with them, and left Shido with some paranoia that would settle with some time.

Instead they’d all just waited. Sure, Joker had waited too, but Morgana knew that he was tearing himself up over it. As the leader, it should have been his call to save Akechi. A single word would have had the Thieves launching into action. Instead, they had watched a man be murdered, and run away without trying to help.

“Akira-” Morgana raised his voice, silenced by the loud thunk of the coffee mug hitting the counter. Akira moved with haste, climbing the stairs. He had no door to slam behind him, but the sharp stomp of his foot at the top of the stairs served the same meaning; don’t follow me.

 

Akira waited at the top of the stairs, unmoving. He partly expected Morgana to follow him, and also expected him to not. After all, when it really came down to it, he did know that Akira needed to be alone sometimes. He removed his shoes and kicked them towards his bed, watching one land on the mattress, and the other fly high and get caught in the rafters. On any other day he’d laugh, but right now he didn’t even register it. 

Shuffling over to the couch, Akira sat down, feeling the weight of the day push him into the cushions. They’d done a lot that day. From fighting the Cleaner, to getting the Assembly Room doors open, it’d been a long and drawn out process.

But then Akechi had been involved, and he’d been so angry with them. The way he lashed out, the words he spat, filled with hate and distrust, they hurt. Akira understood where Akechi was coming from. Had he come to Tokyo with a false accusation, been screwed over by Kamoshida, and not found the support of his friends, maybe he would have done the same kinds of things; twisting people to suit your own desires. The fact Akechi had been through that mistreatment from the start, and at his lowest point, gained those powers? Akira wasn’t even surprised that such a twisted Persona had been born.

It didn’t help that Shido was twisting Akechi’s arm essentially. If Akechi wanted revenge, he had to comply, and after the first murder in the Metaverse, he would be on Shido’s radar. Getting out from there without assassins after him or his reputation ruined? It’d be impossible. Akechi had been doomed from the start, and his misguided attempts at revenge had only dug the hole deeper.

Taking a shaky breath, Akira tried to focus. He had found out earlier in the year that if he thought hard enough and reached into his back pocket, he could access some kind of Metaverse void. Its where he held their spare weapons, snacks, and other assorted pieces he couldn’t reasonably keep on his person at all times. He reached past the soda cans and bracelets, trying to find something he’d taken selfishly for himself only a few months beforehand.

 

Akechi had been wearing his stupid tie when he joined the Phantom Thieves, and Akira had immediately confiscated it. Instead, Akechi had been forced to wear a bracelet on a string that enhanced his strength. When asked why it was hanging from his neck instead of on his wrist where it belonged, Akira had merely said that it would offset his outfit poorly, to which Yusuke agreed.

Now though, wrapped around Akira’s hand, it was the only sign that Akechi had been there. Nobody in reality would know the Detective was dead. His body would never appear in reality. People would forget about him, or make jokes about him running away, or merely raise an eyebrow when you mentioned his name. Nobody but the Phantom Thieves would know that he died for a stupid reason; a misguided attempt at saving them all and making Shido pay.

“If I just-” He was cut off by a hiccup, and it was only then that Akira knew he was crying. Raising a hand to gently touch his face, he let it drop a moment later. There was no point in holding back now. If he did, he’d surely come undone. “If I just said something-” 

He grit his teeth and let himself cry, a choked breath coming first, giving way to restrained sobs. The tears were hot and uncomfortable as they ran down his cheeks, catching in the crease of his pained grimace and landing in his mouth. “I could’ve saved him,” Akira whimpered, leaning forward on his knees. Tears began to land on his glasses, fogging his vision but he didn’t bother cleaning them. He only focused on the feeling of Akechi’s tie in his hand, bringing it close to his chest, as if it would ease his heartache. 

 

Downstairs, Morgana could hear Akira weep, and found himself crying too.

 

Although if he was mourning Akechi, or feeling Akira’s pain, he would never know.


End file.
